The Serpent of Souls
by DinosaurChickenNuggets
Summary: An enlightening story told from the point of view of Draco Malfoy, on an adventure of his own. Draco keeps seeing things, things he shouldn't see. It's up to him to figure out what all of this means and along the way of his journey, he finds out that he wasn't who he thought he was after all. This story is 100% Draco's story.Harry Potter can't hog all the fun to himself this time.
1. Part One

**Part One**

Draco Malfoy could feel the vibrations coming from the mysterious door, the one locked up with pounds and pounds of old, rusting chains. He could never get close enough to see what it was made of, or to peer through the centuries-old keyhole, to get a glimpse of what it was that was inside.

There was one thing that Malfoy was sure of, and it was that whatever room the door opened to contained, it would be something spectacular, something amazing, and something that would return the dark lord Voldemort to full power, conquering all adversaries. Perhaps it would help Malfoy to kill Harry Potter, a boy whom every Death-Eater despised.

Yes, he would be famous amongst the Death-Eaters. He would become Voldemort's most trusted, second-in-command, his right-hand man. All dark wizards and witches would praise him. They would tell their youngest stories of how Great Draco Malfoy conquered Harry Potter.

He could feel excitement rising in him as he got closer. This would surely be the time where he would be able to finally get a glimpse through the keyhole, and obtain the knowledge of how to help Voldemort.

He paced along the long hall, sneaking around like a cunning serpent, padding silently on the balls of his feet like a well-experienced and clever feline.

He was only a few yards away now; whatever tranquillity he contained was rushed away, leaving behind a power-hungry feeling churning in his stomach.

 _The Almighty Malfoy,_ he mused. _Yes, that's what they'll call me_. He smiled to himself, fantasizing about that sweet moment when he would be as famous as Harry Potter, and as feared as lord Voldemort.

 _Faithfulnesss isss alwaysss rewarded by Lord Voldemort, or so they sssay..._

Malfoy whipped around, looking straight into the smart and greedy eyes of a large serpent. "W-what?" he managed to get out, losing all confidence in the snake's piercing gaze.

 _I sssaid, Lord Voldemort rewardsss thossse who are faithful to him, who are obedient._

"D-do you- have you- are you- er- well acquainted with L-Lord Voldemort? Do you serve him? As I do?"

 _Yessss, my child. I used to._

"Used to?"

 _It'sss a very long sstory, if you're willing to lisssten._

"Er-I… You see I haven't really got time for your little stories. I have to see what's behind that door there." He pointed at it, and without waiting for an answer in return, he strutted away as fast as his legs would allow without giving the appearance that he was running away from the great snake.

 _Wait child, I mussst warn you-_

"Warn me of what?" Malfoy demanded.

 _You are but a pawn in Lord Voldemort'sss gamesss, boy. He isss usssing you, usssing you all. He isss forcing you to do hisss bidding, hypnotizing you. As sssoon as he returnsss to power, he will leave you. He will dessssert you._

"No! Don't speak that way of Lord Voldemort!" Malfoy shouted, forgetting to keep quiet.

 _Husssh. You must keep quiet. They will find you, and then you will not be ssso pleassed with yourssself then._ The snake seemed to smirk.

"Who? Why must I keep quiet?" Draco demanded rather rudely.

 _Ss_ s _orry, No time to explain, they have heard you._

It jerked its head toward the staircase behind them, where Draco noticed a shadow of someone coming- or floating as it seemed down the stairs. He looked back at the serpent, but it was not there.

He heard whispers all around him, but when he looked, he did not see anything. He backed into the farthest corner, hoping that whatever it was would not notice him. He shut his eyes as tight as he could and took shallow quiet breath, hoping that his white-blond hair would be covered in enough filth from this corridor that it would hardly be distinguishable from the wall.

Whoever-Whatever it was came closer and closer. He could feel its heavy breath on his face. The whispers became louder and louder and a thick buzzing filled his ears, then silence. He did not dare open his eyes.

"So", It breathed. " You thought you would be able to make it past me…"

A smacking sound, and then nothing again.

" Please I-"

He opened his eyes again, and he was in his large bedroom, in his king-sized bed.

Malfoy grunted in frustration. It seemed like he would never get a chance to see what was behind that forgotten door.

He sat up in his bed just as his mother, Narcissa Malfoy, entered the room.

"Funny.." She had a dazed look in her eyes. "I just got an owl saying that you were found in a secret corridor in the ministry, early this morning, but I sent word back that it couldn't have been you… You were here, of course. Er- Correct?"

"Yes, I was here all along mother, dreaming of nice things."

"Of course you were, Draco darling. But it's a bit odd isn't it... I heard they found an extremely dangerous dead serpent behind the door of the corridor that was mentioned... I suppose it had been there for a long time. It used to possess people, I've heard legends about it. It was given the name 'The Serpent of Souls' because it stole peoples' souls, replacing them with new, insecure and doubtful ones. But don't go worrying about it, darling. You're completely safe here." She gave him a peck on the forehead and left the room.

"Completely safe here…" He whispered.


	2. Part Two

**Part Two**

He knew he must get back to that corridor, he must know what was in that door. He wasn't just doing this for Voldemort now, but mainly himself. But what he knew most of all was that he must find The Serpent of Souls again, it knew something deeper, something more knowledgeable and superior than to what he knew, and he sensed it knew the truth.

Draco knew he needed to find that serpent- The Serpent of Souls, or whatever his mother had called it.

He squeezed his hands around something. It was round, and smooth. He absentmindedly rubbed his fingers back and forth along it, doing so for a few minutes until his mind actually registered that he was holding something. He looked down to see a curious bottle cupped in his hands. It was made of broken shards of glass, all tinted with different greens, as if someone had smashed a thousand slightly different green bottles and put them all back together. The bottle was cool to the touch, and no matter how much he held it in his sweaty hands, it just wouldn't warm up.

It was small, it could fit in the palm of his hand, and when he looked through the patchy, mismatched glass, he could see a dark, thick substance, sloshing around the interior of the bottle. What kept the liquid from the bottle from spilling out was a simple cork, plugged into the hole in the top.

Draco pulled out the cork, pinching it between his thumb and forefinger, hoping to catch a whiff of what was inside, to see if he could detect any harmful ingredients- such as poison- in it. But as Draco leaned forward to smell the liquid, a cacophony of eerie whispers, similar to the ones he heard in the corridor, floated up out of the bottle, forming a small dark cloud, right in front of his upturned nose.

He could hear buzzes and whispers radiating from the cloud, although he could not make out any were saying.

He cocked his ear and leaned closer and closer until it was just millimeters away from the dark cloud. He paused, breathing. Before he could decide whether it was okay to lean in just a little bit further and risk the chance that his ear might graze the side of the cloud which could possibly cause something bad to happen, an invisible force seized him and sent him toppling into the cloud.

All he could see was complete and utter darkness for miles and miles, but oddly when he looked down at his hands, he could still see them perfectly. He was standing on something, but it wasn't solid, and it wasn't gas, and it wasn't liquid. He could still hear the jumble of whispers, although he still couldn't make anything out of it.

He was frustrated, confused, and tired, but most of all, he was curious.

His slicked-back hair was dangling in front of his eyes, and as he made a move to push it back, all the whispers stopped, and recited a poem as one, raspy voice:

 _What this bottle does contain,_

 _Be careful, you'll find it hard to restrain,_

 _Put in your finger, it's safe to dip,_

 _But it may ruin lives if the wrong person takes a sip._

 _You must forget everything you hold dear,_

 _And set your mind on what you need, crystal clear,_

 _Everything you need is in this cup,_

 _So, cheers, forget it all, and by all means, drink up._

"W-what?" He whispered, dazed. He heard nothing in reply except for a faint chilling chuckle. "Who's there?" The laughter stopped.

He didn't see anything, but he felt something. Someone. Watching him.

He whirled around to catch a glimpse of his stalker but instead found himself being spit out of the cloud, back onto his unmade bed. He looked around wildly for the bottle, and spotted it placed on his bedside table, the cork next to it.

He could not distinguish any whispers or sounds, all he could hear was eerie silence.

He lifted the bottle to his lips, still choosing whether or not to take a sip.

 _Ssstop thinking, child. Make your decisssion._

He whipped his head around, searching for the serpent, but he could see nothing. He raised the bottle to his lips once more, ready to take a sip, but he paused again due to the sound of his mother coming up the stairs.

"Breakfast, Draco!" She chirped. "I've got french toast!"

He quickly corked the bottle and stashed it in the back of the drawer in his bedside table, smiling as his mother came into the room and placed the breakfast tray in his lap, but he could still hear the soft hissing of the Serpent.

 _No worriesss. There'sss next time. Alwaysss next time..._


	3. Part Three

**Part Three**

"I'm worried about Draco...he's been having nightmares recently." Draco heard his mother, Narcissa, from her perch on the tasselled couch in the drawing room. He crept closer to the edge of the wall, but not daring to be seen.

"Cissy, darling." He heard a low, drawling voice. Draco grimaced. His aunt Bellatrix. He despised her. She always bragged of her great deeds to the Dark Lord and spoke of very twisted things. "I wouldn't worry _too_ much. Hasn't he always been a bit… odd? No friends, no _real_ friends." Draco peered around the wall. Sure, Crabbe and Goyle may have been more afraid of him than regular friends would be, but they were friends just the same. They always stuck by his side!

His mother, who was too worried about Draco to retaliate to her sister's insult to her son, wrung her hands together furiously, causing her skin to turn a shade of red. "He's been muttering in his sleep… about a serpent, and a door."

"A door?" Bellatrix asked, and began to laugh cruelly. Draco shuddered, hating the wicked noise she was making. "He's having nightmares about a _door_?" she smiled malevolently, and picked up a teacup of black vile substance, stirring it before taking a sip.

"Bella, you're not listening! I'm worried about him! He's not eating as much, he seems sick…" Narcissa picked up a packet of sugar and absentmindedly poured it into her cup, still shaking the packet even though the last remnants of sugar were long gone.

Indeed, "Bella" was not listening. She was staring at the threshold to the room, where she spied a pale white hand, gripping the edge of the door frame. "I think I spy our little problem… _Accio Draco_!"

Draco promptly lost his hold on the door and went flying into his aunt's lap. "You can't do that!" He stood up angrily, brushing himself off, and made to leave before he felt a snarled finger hook onto the neck of his robes.

"Tut, tut, Draco. I thought your parents taught you to be polite. I didn't dismiss you." she dug her fingernails into his neck, making Draco wince.

"Bellatrix, please." Narcissa said coldly to her sister. "He is my son, and it is true that you do not possess the right to dismiss him from anywhere." She turned to Draco, changing her tone to a much nicer one. "Draco, be mindful of your aunt."

"Oho!" Bellatrix snarled. "I do not have the right to give orders to your son, after all the things I have done for the Dark Lord? I am his most confidential and highest servant, I-"

"You may issue orders to Draco," Narcissa cut in. "Only when the Dark Lord actually refers to you as that. Sit, Draco." She busied herself with pouring a glass of hot, bubbling tea, add excessive amounts of sugar and cream before handing it to him.

Bellatrix, meanwhile, sat back on the tasselled couch, brewing in her anger. She opened her mouth to speak, or to make a retort, but Narcissa merely held up her hand. "If you don't mind, I would like to ask _my son_ a few questions here." She looked at Draco. "How much of our conversation did you hear?"

Draco had the option of telling the truth, and having to engage in a conversation with his mother and aunt about his strange dreams, or lie and figure this mystery out on his own. He chose the latter. "I didn't hear anything, Mum. I was laying in my bed, studying up on Dark Magic skills just like Dad wanted me to before- before…" He said, pretending to tear up.

"Before he was locked up in Azkaban?" Bellatrix asked, her dramatic eyelids narrowed in either boredom, disbelief, suspicion, or disgust. Maybe it was all four.

Narcissa threw Bellatrix a look. "Please! Go on, darling…"

"I was in my bed, when I heard Aunt Bella's voice shrieking like a banshee from two floors up, and I was thrown into her lap." He said, folding his hands on his lap to conclude his lie, like a cherry on top.

"There. My son was not listening to anything of our conversation, and I'm taking up his word on it." Narcissa said pointedly. Draco smirked.

Bellatrix's face has turned a deep crimson. "Are you- my very own sister- calling me- a very high and faithful servant of the Dark Lord- a liar?"

"No, I am calling you merely mistaken."

Bellatrix's face had turned an even deeper shade of crimson, if possible, while she threw herself back against the couch and furiously bit her upper lip. "Well- how do you explain the hand that I saw, gripping the doorway?"

Drac's face paled even more than usual, as he looked into his aunt's gleeful face, triumph painted on her lips. "I don't know who that was," Draco started. "But it wasn't me."

He watched at his mother and aunt's face contorted in horror. "An intruder?" His mother breathed.

"We must tighten security measures! If the Malfoy Manor is not safe enough to hold the Dark Lord's secrets, he will never trust us!" And Bellatrix scurried away, leaving Draco with his mother.

"Mummy?" He asked tentatively. He hated saying that, but he knew she loved it, and he had a few questions he wanted to ask.

"Yes Draco? Oh, It's been awhile since you've called me that, how precious…"

"What's the Serpent of Souls?"

She recoiled. "Why would a nice young man like you want to hear about trifles such as this?"

"Oh, I just heard you mention it to me the other day, and I'm very curious."

"When did I-?"

"Please, mum?" He looked up at her with wide eyes.

"Oh, I- alright. What would you like to know?"

"Well, what is it, first of all? Is it on the Dark Lord's side?"

"The Serpent is believed to be a myth, from about 30 years ago, when I had finished my second year at hogwarts." Her eyes clouded over as she relived her younger days. Draco waited patiently until, finally, she snapped out of her trance. "Oh! Oh yes. As I was saying, I was only about 12 years old when I received an owl from my parents. It was warning me that someone in Hogwarts had connections with a very mysterious thing.

"It was called the Serpent of Souls, and I had only heard about it from old storybooks that my parents would read to me. It was said that you must never, _ever_ agree with it, or it would steal your soul. The only way to get rid of it was to outsmart it, in a game, or a bet, for example, which nobody has succeeded at, for the Serpent is very cunning.

"I don't believe in it, but I suppose that if it was real, it must have been in contacts with the Dark Lord before he became what he is right now… I think I heard that they found a rather large snakeskin behind one of the doors in the Department of mysteries."

"The Department of Mysteries," Draco mused. "Wasn't that where they found Potter?"

"Yes, that is where they found the Potter boy… don't mention it to your Aunt. She's still bitter that he got away."

"Do you think it has something to do with him?"

"I don't- er, Draco, I don't believe that this is a matter on which I should be talking to you about, let alone _educating_ you on."

"But-"

"Relax, Draco. It's a myth. I had better go and see what Bellatrix is up to." And with that, Narcissa also hurried away, leaving Draco with his thoughts.

He'd been hearing the Serpent's voice lately so frequently that he often felt to similar to his enemy, Harry Potter. And hadn't Potter also had dreams about a door in the Department of Mysteries as well? Draco rubbed his forehead. _But it's not real…_ He tried to assure himself. Suddenly he heard soft, hissing laughter.

 _Not real. The serpent is not real._ He told himself again, to more laughter, feeling the least reassured and more intrigued than he had ever felt in his whole 17 years of life.

 **Just a quick note: In case you guys are wondering, this takes place in the Summer before the Draco's seventh year at Hogwarts.**

 **Also, I'm terribly sorry, i just haven't had the willpower to continue this story, but I'm definitely going to try and make more time.**

 **Lastly, I would love it if you read my story on Wattpad. My account is ImTooTiredRn and I have only one story, which is called Adapting and Conquering (The Rise and Fall of Bertha) or something like that.**

 **Thank you all so much for reading.**


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